


Sketchy

by flootzavut



Series: Lie to NCIS [48]
Category: Lie to Me (TV), NCIS
Genre: Art, Awesome Foursome, Crossover, CxK, F/M, Humour, Kate Lives, Kate as artist, Lie to NCIS, UST, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, crossoververse, foursomeverse, mixed POVs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 00:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10956042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: Kate sketches Cal.Crib notes for the fandom blindhere.





	Sketchy

* * *

_**Sketchy** _

* * *

 

"So, should I get my kit off or what?"

"Cal!" Kate blushes. She should've known this would be a trial by fire. She loves Cal, she's looking forward to drawing him (and is quietly thrilled he's so enthusiastic and excited about it), but he's... well, so Cal.

"Draw me like one of your French girls, eh?" He waggles his eyebrows and uses his most lascivious tone, and Kate whacks him upside the head with her sketchbook. "Ow!"

"Serves you right." (Though she's baffled and bemused he even knows that quote. Cal is a secret  _Titanic_  fan? Maybe Gill made him watch it. Or Emily... Of course. Now she thinks about it? She's sure it was Emily.)

He rubs the back of his head and sticks his bottom lip out.

"If you're not careful, I'll draw you that way," she warns him.

He grumbles, but subsides. (A little.) "Where'd you want me?"

His eyes are still twinkling, but he's laid off a bit on the flirting, so she can point him to a chair with good light without having to resort to violence again. He gets himself comfortable, in typical Lightman fashion, then abruptly sits up straight. "S'pose I should be a bit more proper, if you're gonna draw me?"

She laughs. "No, just relax." He shoots her a doubtful look. "I'm drawing  _you_ , Cal, not some nineteenth century stuck up person who happens to share your face. Just be you."

"Well, in that case..." He makes as if to unbutton his fly.

"Cal!"

He holds his hands up protectively. "Teasing, I'm teasing." He smirks. "You should see the colour of your face right now."

Kate throws an eraser at his head, which he catches and throws back, followed quickly by a cushion, and it devolves into laughter and tit for tat for several minutes.

When they finally run out of handy projectiles, Kate goes in search of her missing eraser, finally fishing it out from under the couch on her hands and knees. When she gets up, she catches Cal staring at her ass, but decides it's not meant maliciously and isn't worth the argument and... well, she just doesn't really mind all that much, which is a surprising thought she'll inspect later when she doesn't have Mister I Can See Inside Your Brain in the room.

Cal flops back into his chair, all loose-limbed and catlike with a grin like a fox, and she laughs. "See, now that's you."

"What, love?"

"Slouched and comfortable and looking like you're made of rubber bands. I can draw you like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"That a good thing?"

"What?"

"Being made of rubber bands?"

She shrugs a shoulder - she doesn't quite know how to respond. "It's... it's very you."

He grins, pleased and indulgent, and something about it makes her blush again, which makes him grin wider.

"Shut up."

"Didn't say a word, love."

She shakes her head, but she doesn't know what she'd scold him for, so she opens her sketchbook to a clean page and starts to draw.

* * *

Cal's... fascinated.

Kate's pretty much an open book - at least to him - but usually she tries so hard to be aloof and sphinx-like, to keep her feelings hidden under a veneer of ice queen. (It's cute.) She's not nearly good enough at it to fool him or Gill, but she does her best. In theory, she should be a tough read - beautiful women usually are - but Kate's so expressive, so passionate, it's hard for her to manage her emotions.

Still, she tries and tries. She's always wearing the mask, and maybe it's not a very effective mask, maybe her real face is always peeking through, but she rarely lets it fall.

Now, though, now she's concentrating so hard on her drawing, all that self-consciousness, all her fear of being seen, has dropped away. Every little frustration, every moment of delight when she gets something just right, every stray emotion from whatever's going on inside her head, plays out right there on her face in absolute honesty, and he never gets to see her like this. It's not quite like she's forgotten he's here - she is drawing him after all - but she's completely forgotten to censor herself.

It's beautiful.

Not just Kate - though she is gorgeous, of course, he's not blind - but to see her completely unselfconscious, so immersed in what she's doing, so totally absorbed? It's lovely. He imagines the other time she likely forgets herself this way is when she's having sex (oh boy, can he imagine, though he probably shouldn't), so it's - well, it's a privilege. It very nearly feels like he's taking liberties just by watching her.

He's still absolutely gobsmacked that she knows his face well enough to sketch it from memory - that she cares enough to do such a wonderful job of it, to capture him so well, not just his likeness ('cause her mental picture of him is undeniably sweet but overly flattering, in truth), but his character, his personality, flaws and all.

Actually watching her at work, though... he's so glad he made a fuss and was a pain in the arse and insisted that they do this 'properly', twisted her arm until she agreed to let him sit for her. He was mostly being a little shit, and if he's honest, he'd planned to misbehave, to see if he couldn't make her throw up her hands and tell him how impossible he is, but now... now he wouldn't disturb her for the world.

It's strangely intimate; he's sure that even if she'd responded to his bawdy teasing by telling him sure, strip, let's see what you've got, he couldn't feel much more exposed, and Kate herself is more than naked to him right now without even realising it. It gives him goosebumps. Part of him thinks he should tease her, should make her put up those defences - surely he shouldn't be seeing her this way? - but he's far too selfish to ruin it.

He's going to be sorry when she finishes her drawing, sorry to lose this perfect moment. This wonderful girl so minutely focused on him, putting so much effort into drawing his ugly mug, and being so relaxed and at peace as she does so; it can't last long enough, but he's going to enjoy every second of it while he has the chance.

_~ fin ~_


End file.
